


Boxset Catatonia

by Solitary_Shadow



Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M, Object Insertion, PWP, Silly, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solitary_Shadow/pseuds/Solitary_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fandom has no excuse for not doing this in 2009. [Till/Richard/'Till']</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boxset Catatonia

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not know any of the members of Rammstein, this is strictly a work of fiction and I do not profit nor claim to represent true aspects of their lives in this story.**
> 
> **Warnings:** Sort of PWP. Till/Richard. In ways you might expect and then some. Knowledge of the Liebe Ist Fur Alle Da boxset necessary. Incredibly silly.

**Boxset Catatonia - A Rammstein Fanfiction**

\----------------------

Richard Kruspe can think of about a hundred ideal ways of spend a Saturday afternoon.

"I tell you, we've really gone off the edge," Schneider's saying in the background, sounding irritated. "'Pussy' was bad enough. This is _silly_. It's not even silly the way 'Buck Dich' was."

This way is not one of them.

"Pandering to the lowest common denominator. Don't know what Till was thinking."

He could use a cigarette.

Olli seems to think a little differently, though. It's still fun to listen to a debate. "It's not quite that bad, Doom," he's saying. "either way, what's done is done. You went along with it too anyway. What's the point in trying to take it back at this point, when we're sitting outside waiting for the confirmation that they've been shipped to stores?"

Richard could _really_ use a cigarette but he can't smoke in here.

"Well, the rest of us liked it, at least," Paul says, and turns to Richard (who's a little startled at how sudden this is), at this point involving him in the conversation. "did you find it fun enough, Risch?"

"Huh? Oh. Oh yeah. Getting creative is _always_ fun."

"See? Even our diva approves, Doom."

Richard, glad that the conversation's been diverted from him to the drummer again, glances at the clock and sighs. Three in the afternoon and he hasn't smoked in over two and a half hours - any longer and he might actually start breaking out in cold sweat. To distract himself, he recounts a chord progression in his head - _G-A-B-C-D-E-F sharp_ \- and imagines that he's outside enjoying the last of the autumn sun. Soon the days will get darker and colder, and stuck inside a building waiting for Till to return from a meeting is not a way that one ought to be spending a Saturday afternoon.

... Till. That's a distracting thought. A _nice_ thought. Richard focuses on that instead. The singer's really gotten into shape recently, looking slimmer and certainly a lot more alive compared to how he was looking by the end of their 'Reise, Reise' tour; the fact that they've finally gotten this album out must also help. He's been looking a lot more cheerful recently, smiling more often, and that's always nice to see. Just the previous day the two of them had shared a long conversation about what restaurants they might visit for the new tour, and Richard had been thoroughly entertained by just how enthusiastic and happy Till had been during the entire thing.

The singer really ought to be happy more often. His smile takes years off his face. Now forty-six years old, the man is well into middle age but still going strong - Richard taps his fingers on the armrest of the chair and blushes as he thinks about the other's physique, still beautifully toned after all of those years. He's liked the other's body for quite a long time now, amongst other things. Complete with his matured and intensely husky voice, Richard has somebody to think about and keep watching throughout the days that the band spends together. And now that they're going on a tour, they'll be close together again for the first time in years.

"I think I know what you're thinking about, Risch," Paul's mischievous giggle brings him back down to earth. "you're thinking back to all the hilarious shenanigans we've pulled over the years. You were always the one for controversy after all. So what do you think? Does what we've done for the boxset top the ‘Buck Dich’ stunt? Or the photoshoot where Till gagged and rode you like a pony? I recall you liked that one from the way you blushed..."

" _Oh mein Gott_ , Paul, bring back the past. Things that happened years ago aren’t even _valid_. That wasn't the case at all."

"You sure?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure," Richard says, fighting to keep his blush in check. "I wasn't really thinking of _anything._ I just really liked... the get-up I was put in. Really."

"Pfffffft," Paul starts laughing, slapping his knees. "hahaha. Oh my God, Richard. You kinky bugger. Jesus. Must admit, I didn't expect that one."

Richard's saved from having to provide an answer to this as Till chooses this point in time to come back. " _Ach, tut mir leid_ ," he calls from across the room, grinning from ear to ear. "I was held up and there are all those boxes to take care of, I'm sorry that I took so long. Help me out, _bitte_?"

"Oh, of course!" Paul and Richard are the first two to stand up and aid the singer - he's lugging six aluminum flight cases behind him, all of a fairly hefty weight for their size. The Rammstein logo is printed on top and the moment he sees it, the younger guitarist knows what they are.

"What's all this?"

Till picks one up and hands one over to the drummer. "We all get the deluxe boxset for free. Before they even go on sale! A present for being so co-operative."

"... Are you for real, Lindemann. _Seriously_."

"As real as the dildos that you're holding in your hands."

Schneider makes a face, setting down the box on a nearby table. "Ugh. And we have to keep this example of pure and utter _tastelessness_ around for the rest of our band lives? Where are we going to put it anyway - in the attic for our children and grandchildren to find? How do we _explain_ that, that their grandfather just got together with five of his friends and collaborated on dildos based off their own cocks?"

"Doom, nobody said you had to _keep_ the damn thing. Sign it and sell it, that'd probably fetch thousands," is Paul's comment; contrary to Schneider he actually looks quite amused, opening up the boxset and letting out a giggle at the items nestled inside. "oh my. They did turn out remarkably well. I'd say _that_ one's particularly true to life."

"How the - which one are you talking about? How would you even _know_?"

"Olli's, duh," the bassist looks around before quickly looking away again, his face rapidly turning red. "oh, I was joking. I know you aren't the type to just go around flashing people, Olli..." Paul's comment doesn't seem to be doing anything much for the younger man though, who simply carries on looking away resolutely with the boxset clutched in his arms and a persistent blush on his face. "... no, I was talking about mine. A faithful representation, I'd say."

Schneider gives him a vaguely disgusted and bemused look. "You ought to be canonized, Paul. The patron saint of too much information would be a good title for you."

"Eheh. I try."

"What I want to know is," Till cuts in at this point, looking quite pleased with himself. The younger guitarist, who's been observing all of this silently, notices that the older man's already got his own boxset wrapped and tied in ribbon - perhaps he's wanting to gift it to someone, though who it might be is beyond his imagination. Nevertheless, he suddenly feels a little jealous. "what I want to know is what Herr Dokter thinks of the whole business. We already know that Schneider doesn't think much of this ('damn straight', the drummer says flatly) and us four find it hilarious... but you've been quiet about the whole thing from start to finish. So _what_ do you think, Flake?"

"This one's the biggest," Paul's saying, still gazing at the dildos. "I wonder whose this one is?"

"Mine, quite clearly," Flake says in a completely deadpan voice without even looking, and this is the statement that makes everyone break down in laughter and diffuses the tension. Even Schneider has to laugh; with Flake's own special kind of approval, Rammstein has added one more item to their list of 'hilarious shenanigans', and that's good enough for everyone.

At least, Richard wants everyone to think that anyway. During the ride back to the flat he keeps glancing down at the flight case on his lap and the Rammstein logo on it, pondering on an idea that hasn't really taken shape yet, listening to Till and Paul chatting amicably in the background.

\-----

"You sure you don't want to go? It's just such a nice day out, it's all."

Richard shakes his head and smiles. "No, Olli, I think I'll stay and watch over the flat. Someone has to, anyway. It's a Sunday and I really just want a long rest."

The bassist nods sympathetically. "Fair enough. Get a lot of rest in, Risch, we'll most definitely need it when we actually start touring."

"I will. You guys have a nice walk, _ja_?"

"You want us to bring back anything, Risch?" Flake calls from outside; he's bustling around, sounds like he's put his coat on. "cigarettes, drinks...?"

The guitarist contemplates this for a while, although he knows that everyone knows his answer already. It's just nice to keep people guessing sometimes. "Cigarettes, _bitte_. Preferably one of the larger packs. I'll give you the money afterwards."

"I've got you. Let's go."

The door shuts with a click and Richard is left alone in the collective flat. The place is cleaned up and tidied now - they're not going to be staying here for much longer seeing as the 'Liebe Ist Fur Alle Da' tour begins in less than a week's time. He's very much looking forward to it, his body already riled up with wanderlust - he hasn't felt this way for a long time, performing in front of people, hearing the cheers of the crowd vibrating through his body and feeling that sense of absolute elation. He's always been one to love performing and giving it his all. He walks over to the kitchen and checks the cupboards - there's some Jagermeister left from the previous night, and a bottle of peach schnapps. Pouring a little bit of the latter into a shot glass, Richard holds the glass in true Austrian style - between thumb and little finger - and smiles as he walks over to the window. A nice day indeed and good schnapps. What more can he ask for?

"... Company."

Amen to that. Richard down the schnapps in one gulp and frowns at the outside world. Relaxing in this place is good and he's not so desperate for company that he'd run out after his friends, but he's quite a social person and it'd have been nice to have someone in the flat with him to just talk and maybe strum a few songs with. That's always fun. Putting the glass in the sink, the guitarist ponders on what he should do for the next three or so hours that his friends will be away - guitar practice? No, his amps are packed away and he doesn't have an acoustic near him. He's not up for a film or a book either. There's the top shelf of the fridge to clean out, so he shrugs and gets to that first for the sake of something to do. It takes all of five minutes to toss away lemon and lime rinds, rearrange the containers of leftovers and fill up the ice tray again; and after that Richard finds himself sitting back in his room, not wanting to venture outside but not sure what else to do. Perhaps he just should take a long nap, curled up in blankets warmed by the sun, almost like a cat would during a warm lazy afternoon. That's also an idea.

Just as he's lying down on the bed, the aluminum flight case in the corner of his room catches his eye, and the idea that he's had since the last afternoon pops into his mind again. It strikes him then that while he knows what's inside, he hasn't actually checked it out for himself - well, he's alone, what's so wrong about wanting to find out? It'd be something to do. Richard gets up and pads across the room, kneeling down in front of the flight case, hesitating for only a second before opening it and peering inside.

The contents are just as expected - the album, handcuffs, lubricant, and the six pink dildos. It's not as if they're marked, but they all have the privilege of knowing which ones correspond to which person simply by having discussed it. Richard blinks down at the one on the third right, the one he knows that corresponds to himself, only realizing then just how completely surreal it is to see a representation of his own member being sold as a dildo. And that's just an imaginative form that he approved and got made. What would it have felt like to actually have a proper cast done? (Maybe he should look into that? Wait, what? What's he going to do with it even if he did?)

He's getting distracted. He only has his mind on two things, really. Reaching inside, he pulls out the dildo next to his, frowning a little at the sensation of the silicone - not unpleasant by any means but still a little weird because of its unnatural slickness - and after a pause also pulls out the tube of lubricant. Not bothering to shut the flight case, he then stands up, staring at the two items in his hands and feeling unsure as to how to proceed; he doesn't even really understand what's possessing him to do this.

Till. This one corresponds to Till. They've got that sorted, at least. Tossing the bottle of lubricant on his bed, he looks at the dildo closely, frowning and observing it in a critical way. The silicone is cool in his hands but soaks in his heat. He takes in the texture of it - it's veined in a fairly realistic way and when he rubs the head of it, it feels fairly firm but not unpleasantly hard. When Richard had to design his own dildo he went with a fairly elaborated version of his own member (and that means ribbed), but Till's one is so realistic that he really has to wonder if the man really does look - really does _feel_ like this down there.

The response to that thought comes to him so naturally that he has to do an inner double take when he realizes it. _Well. I can experiment at least._

His room has a small ensuite attached to it. He goes to the sink and rises the dildo off first with warm water and soap, shaking the water drops off, before he closes the door to his room and sits down on his bed with it in his hands. Richard takes a deep breath first, still unsure how to even start - he's certainly not going to just go at it, that would be foolish and incredibly painful to boot.

_This is Till_ , he tells himself. _This is Till, I'm touching his cock, and it's hard for me._

Almost immediately he wants to groan and cover his face with his hands at just how much like a terrible romance novel that sounds, but he manages to overcome the urge by thinking of the real Till. _That's_ not a new fantasy, after all. In his mind, the older man reciprocates his lust and longing that he's held in place since - since, wow, over _ten years_ ago when he fondled himself onstage in Berlin - and them sleeping together is a perfectly natural thing. Natural as breathing, even. Richard thinks of being caressed by Till's hands, roughened from years' worth of burn scars, and finds himself being turned on almost instantly.

"Mmm," he murmurs as he touches himself, eyes sliding shut and hips bucking upwards slightly at his touch. He licks his lips for a second before opening his eyes and peeling off his shirt, discarding it beneath the bed. He does the same with his belt and trousers as well, along with his boxers, getting rid of all the garments restraining his arousal. Compare his length to the dildo; the latter is larger. He's not sure how to feel about that. Perhaps he'll do a comparison later with the others, but right now's not the time. Richard sits up, really studying the object in his hands, warming it with his body. The silicone doesn't feel too bad next to other parts of his body, either.

He's suddenly overcome with a strong desire to lick the tip of it so that's what he does. Nothing. Of course it tastes of nothing because it's just silicone. And then he feels like an idiot for having expected something else.

_Oh well, at least I'm getting into it_ , he tells himself, and gently sets the dildo on his stomach. The reassuring weight, along with the pleasant sensation of his own arousal alongside it, helps him think of Till - he imagines the older man lying next to him, his hot, wet tongue running along his length as he bobs his head up and down. A fantasy that he's entertained many times before in hotels, the privacy of his own bed, or even within his bunk in tour buses with the singer sleeping mere inches away from him. Reaching down to stroke himself, Richard wonders what Till would taste like, really - if he's just as big as this dildo suggests, then it might be a bit of a struggle to take him in his mouth. He imagines kneeling down in front of the older man, submissive and obedient, running his tongue along the other's length and lapping up the precum leaking from the tip before swirling his tongue around the head, the singer moaning in his deep melodic voice and cooing sweet nothings above him-

"Till," he gasps as he brushes his thumb against the slick tip of his erection, letting out a quiet groan. "oh... mmm... Till..."

He feels ready. Reaching for the dildo (now very warm to the touch), he gets up to shift positions so that he's kneeling in front of the pillows and searches around for the tube of lubricant. Richard admittedly isn't a stranger to this kind of sex, although this kind of _alone time_ is certainly new to him. At least he knows what to do. The lubricant is cold to the touch but a little rub between his fingers solves that relatively quickly; he grips the headboard with one hand and bends forwards, inserting a finger inside himself. Inhale. Exhale. He probably needs more lube, it's hard to get to a stage where too much lube is considered a bad thing. He manages two fingers afterwards, gently loosening his entrance a little in preparation for the real thing. After he's made sure that he's ready, Richard gets up and quickly nips over to the ensuite to wash his hands - walking with a heavily lubed backside feels very weird indeed - and he makes sure to lather the dildo with the gel as well once he's back on the bed. They really should have provided more lubricant with the boxset, come to think of it, or maybe he's just being extra cautious.

_Right. This is it._

Richard is very aroused and leaking heavily by this point. He moans as he reaches behind him with the dildo, the tip of it pressing tight against his entrance; he thinks of Till, the fantasy of the older man making love to him, and that gives him enough motivation to carry on and try making love to 'Till', as crazy as it feels.

_Ah... Gott, what am I doing..._

But even through his inner protests, he's lusting too much to stop. Richard moans into the pillow softly as he pushes the tip inside of him; it slides in after a bit of pressure and he winces at the brief jolt of pain travelling through his body. It fades away after a few seconds, though, and after taking a deep breath or two, Richard carries on slowly, inserting inch by inch, panting heavily and pausing every few seconds to let himself adjust. It's a good thing that the dildo is hot and slippery inside him, it feels more realistic that way. There's one last inch remaining from the base that he's not sure that he'll be able to manage, but he ought to adjust to what he already has inside him - rolling over gently to lie on his back, Richard closes his eyes and lets his head sink into the pillows, letting out a quiet, trembling breath and forcing himself to relax. He's stretched and tight around the length; it aches a little, having something this big inside him, but he knows that it'll fade away soon. To ease himself, Richard spreads his legs a little wider and caresses himself, licking the tip of his fingers and pinching at a nipple, letting pure pleasure overtake the dull ache.

This is nothing but lewd. Utterly, utterly lewd. A far cry from his usual cool, composed demeanor.

As an experiment, he grasps the base of the dildo and pulls it out a little before pushing it back in. The silicone sliding against his entrance makes him tense up for a second, but he's pleased to see that he's ready to move; the next time around, he pulls it out a little more than before and slowly slides it back inside, building up a steady rhythm.

"Ahh..." he moans. "oh... mmm... fuck me..."

'Till' is large, he's certainly being made to understand that with his entire body - but Richard can only think about the man, the real deal, pounding into him and he can't help but be intensely aroused. Rolling over on his stomach, the guitarist lets out a high-pitched cry as he hits a spot inside him that sends a tingle up his spine; he muffles his cry into the pillow, a little mortified at how unmanly he sounds and yet feeling a guilty satisfaction from the way 'Till' is causing him to break down so completely and shamelessly.

"Oh, _Gott_ ," Richard cries, clutching onto the sheets with one hand, holding on for dear life. "oh, _Gott_ , Till. Why are you so big even in replicated silicone form. Ahh. Ahh, _fuck_."

But it feels incredible. Admittedly, it feels quite different to having a real person making love to him - it takes much less effort to tighten around it and it feels a lot firmer than the real thing. But as far as he knows, this is about as close to Till's actual length as he's going to get. Gripping onto the headboard with one hand, Richard closes his eyes tight as he keeps on manipulating the dildo inside him, bucking and panting hard with each thrust, hitting his prostate every now and then and sending hot jolts of alternating pleasure and pain up his entire body. He's not actually a man who cares much about having that gland stimulated, he was never entirely sure what the big deal was, but when he's in control of where the dildo is going he thinks he understands a little more.

He kind of wishes he had another hand. Keeping the dildo inside him, he lets go and reaches down to manipulate his slick erection, feeling a spectacular orgasm coming on-

Something cold closes around his wrist. Richard's eyes widen at the sensation, and he glances down wildly to see that one of his wrists is now secured to the headboard with handcuffs; the very set of handcuffs from the flight case. The ones that he most definitely left in there - this could only mean -

"T-Till...!"

He has no idea how long the older man's been there, but as Till gives him a bemused look and reaches behind him, Richard can't really do much but squirm and moan as the older man grasps the dildo and starts to thrust it into his body. He starts off slow, obviously keeping the other's safety in mind, but he's soon slamming the object inside the younger man and aiming for the bundle of nerves inside him; Richard is also bucking hard with each thrust, the intense pleasure and the shock of having handed Till control over the situation mingling together into an indescribable sensation like he's never felt before. The older man's much rougher with him; when the guitarist moves his hand to try stroking himself again, Till pushes his hand out of position and gives him a hard slap on the backside, forcing him to cry out and cling onto the headboard with all his might. But even that's nothing compared to what happens next.

Just as he's thinking that he's probably going to climax for the second time, the length of silicone is suddenly pulled out of him completely; Richard whimpers and glances back at Till, confused and feeling somewhat cheated, only to be met with a kiss to the lips. Till's tossed the dildo away onto the sheets and now he's holding tightly onto the younger man, running his tongue over the other's lips and forcing them open, sharing a long, open-mouthed kiss. Very forward for a first kiss, for sure. Till seems intent on staying one step ahead of Richard at all points; he breaks the kiss to shove the younger man down, releasing the handcuff linking his wrist to the posts, and flips him onto his back. "Ow, what the-?"

He's answered when Till takes off his shirt, nearly tearing the fabric in his haste, and unzips his trousers. Richard just gasps, beyond really comprehending what's happening to him, as the older man takes advantage of his already more-than-adequately lubricated state; lifting up the other's legs, Till pulls him close and enters him in one swift thrust. It is at this point that Till says something for the first time since all of this started: "Nngh, Risch, you're so tight!"

Hardly original, but it's not as if Richard is complaining. Till's making love to him - actually _making love_ to him, with his own member and all - and all he can do in response is to throw his head back, feeling the older man's lips polishing the skin of his neck, leaving tiny love-bites and butterfly kisses. The dildo has nothing on the real deal. Till really is just about as thick and large as the dildo was, but the actual friction of skin against skin and the sheer amount of slippery _heat_ , hot and slick and sweet as buttercream, is something else altogether. Till is strong, impaling him with hard, merciless thrusts and at the same time being almost unspeakably tender as he murmurs words of love into his ear. He clings to the singer tightly, nails digging into the other's back (he hisses a little at the sensation but doesn't pull away), crushing their lips together so hard that he's sure that they'll be bruised by the next day. But it doesn't matter, nothing else matters, except that he and Till are joined as one and this time he's not being stopped just before the climax.

" _Ri-Richard_ ," Till gasps out, tensing suddenly. " _ich komme_..."

Richard doesn't hear this because he's there already. It's his full first name being called that does it. He bites down on Till's shoulder as he comes, muffling a loud scream, finally achieving release after all the agonizing wait. His body clenches tightly around the other's shaft, which then goes onto providing the final push off the edge for the singer, and the last thing the guitarist feels before briefly passing out from all the pleasure is the sensation of something hot and thick filling him up along with Till calling out his name again.

\-----

He's only out for a few seconds but it feels like a lot longer than that. Either way, when Richard regains consciousness, Till is still inside him and gently licking at his neck, nuzzling the younger man and still rocking his hips slightly as he's letting his orgasm fade away. He meets the guitarist's eyes when he looks up, raising a hand to gently stroke his face in response.

"How're you feeling?" Till asks quietly. Richard is too dazed to answer, but he lets out a soft moan when the older man bends down and runs a warm, rough tongue over a nipple; Till sucks gently on the sensitive nubs, rolling one between a thumb and forefinger, enjoying the way the guitarist is squirming beneath him. " _ist gut_?"

"Mmnh," is the guitarist's only answer. He can barely move, his backside is aching and he feels like he’s on the verge of passing out again. Deciding that perhaps he's getting too heavy for the younger man to handle, Till supports himself with both arms as he tries to move off the other's body only to be pushed back down when Richard tightens his legs around his hips. "... don't pull out yet... five more minutes..."

"I'm not going to stay hard for five minutes," the singer says, but nevertheless complies, sinking down to lie on top of Richard more comfortably. "heh. You hellcat, you. Nearly took the skin off my shoulders."

The guitarist doesn't say anything but closes his eyes, his entire body flushed with embarrassment. Now that his orgasm has faded away, he's aware that he's gotten himself into a problem. Quite a big problem, one that might affect the entire dynamics of the band; just before a tour too. Terrible timing. But Till himself doesn't appear to see it this way, considering the eagerness in which he made love to Richard and how utterly contented he looks now. He's still inside the younger man, although considerably more softened by this point - as if reading his mind, Till shifts above him and gently pulls himself out. Despite it all Richard lets out a soft, disappointed whine as he feels the singer leaving his body, some of his still-hot cum trickling out and staining the sheets beneath him; he's given a reassuring kiss to the forehead in response, and without bothering to clean themselves up, they end up in a somewhat awkward (only in Richard's point of view) cuddle.

"So. Your feelings."

"... _Ja_?"

Till smiles down at him. "I won't ask about what made you feel this way. Have you felt like this for a long time, though?"

"... Would you like the long version or the short version?"

"Point taken."

Richard shifts against the older man, still feeling rather mortified. "... You aren't angry, though? Considering you walked into me moaning your name like a cat in heat? I'd have been freaked out if it were myself, I mea - _mmmph_ -"

"You talk entirely too much, Risch," Till says dryly, shushing him by pressing a finger to his lips. "and no, you _dummkopf_ , I'm not angry. Would I have fucked you if I was, let alone wanting to keep this up in the future?"

"You mean that?"

"Very much so," the singer tells him, ruffling his hair and sitting up. "I didn't feel comfortable about leaving you alone in the flat, see. Didn't seem fair on you after you worked so hard with us. The others went to watch a movie but I decided to keep you company, that's why I came back early... and I liked what I saw."

An 'ah' is all Richard can say to this little revelation, so that's what he does. There's not much else to say, really - Till came back to keep him company and that's exactly what he's done. "How do you clean this?" he's asking, picking up the long-since forgotten dildo.

"I think you need to boil it. That'll sterilize it properly."

"We'll do that," the singer nods and lies back down on the bed, smiling lazily as Richard cuddles up to his chest and buries his face into his arms. The younger man's still very embarrassed about what's happened, that's for sure, but he feels contented and happy that the older man has reciprocated his feelings. "well, Risch, seeing as you're probably the first person in the world to have actually _used_ one of those, I think we might keep this set to play with. There's a lot of potential for those," the older man gestures in the direction of the flight case. "ever wondered what it'd be like to do Paul, for example? Or even yourself?"

"... Uhh... I can't say that I have?"

"So I'm the only one you fantasized about," a shy nod. "well, I'm flattered, Risch - and believe me," Till kisses him gently on the nose, smiling. "your feelings _are_ mutual. Congratulations are in order, I guess, seeing as we've both landed ourselves the real thing... heh, your hair tickles... shall we have a shower together in a bit? The others won't be back for a while."

Richard growls and impatiently tugs at Till. "Mmm... just put that thing down, stop making clichéd comments and _kiss me_ goddamnit. A lot's happened. Give me time to adjust."

**Author's Note:**

> Pffffft hahaha what the fuck have I done
> 
> Yeah I write smut too. I don't show it much and it takes ages to write but I do.
> 
> And yeah this totally should have been done ages ago. If it has been done and I'm not aware of it because I'm a derp, then I sincerely apologize. Either way I'm going to hell.
> 
> The only way this could have been more insane was if they were having sex to the rhythm of their own songs in the background. XDDDDDDD WHOOOSH oh look there goes my reputation for writing gradual, well-developed and realistic R+ fanfics lol 
> 
> I'm sorry for this one.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Boxset Catatonia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651568) by [Reesh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reesh/pseuds/Reesh)




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